


The Stars Reach Down

by misanthropiclycanthrope



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 01:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misanthropiclycanthrope/pseuds/misanthropiclycanthrope
Summary: It takes a while for Finn to convince himself the First Order were wrong abouteverything.But he does get there eventually.





	The Stars Reach Down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Poe sparring with Finn to help him build his strength back up, things get a bit heated and Finn tries to distance himself from Poe because "no, they said this is wrong" until he realizes "the first order said killing children was fine, but loving someone is wrong, so they can kiss my ass while I kiss this beautiful man"

“You’re not really trying.”

“Huh?” Poe’s face was the picture of innocence. “I’m giving you my best here, buddy.”

“ _This_ is your best?”

Finn knew Poe was under strict instruction to take it easy on him, but Finn was recovering well and he was determined to get back to his full strength for the fight that still lay ahead of them. There were people depending on him. _Good_ people. People who had helped him, and now he needed to repay the favor.

And of all the physical therapy he’d undergone since waking, these sparring sessions with Poe were his favorite. What he secretly looked forward to most every day.

The gentle goading worked, as he had known it would. “Alright, you asked for it!” Poe set his face and his stance, the fresh resolve in his expression slightly offset by the amusement still dancing in his eyes. He waited for Finn to signal he was ready, then pounced.

Poe hadn’t had the same kind of training Finn had endured, wasn’t as skilled in hand-to-hand combat and lacked the resultant bulk of muscle, but he had determination, surprising wiry strength, and the hand-eye coordination and reflexes of…well, of an ace fighter pilot.

And _this_ was what Finn needed, a real challenge, making his muscles work and heart rate rise. The occasional twinge of protest from his back was bearable, hardly more than a dull ache now, and he was smiling even as Poe wrangled the upper hand and Finn found himself on the mat, pinned down by a smug Poe.

It didn’t feel like a loss, not really. Not with Poe’s triumphant grin beaming down at him, just inches away, his ridiculous hair in disarray, dark eyes sparkling with delight.

“You were saying?”

Finn laughed, conceding the point. “Okay, you win.” He expected Poe to release him, pull him back up to feet to start over, but Poe didn’t move. Lip caught between his teeth, he stared unblinking down at Finn, something more in his gaze now, something that almost _burned_. Finn could feel that heat, in Poe’s stare, in every point of contact between their bodies, and when Poe’s eyes flickered to his lips he wanted nothing more than to leap into the flames.

 _No_.

A sudden panic gripped Finn and he lurched, struggling to free himself from Poe’s hold. Poe released him immediately, scuttling back on his heels, putting a few feet of distance between them.

Finn felt the loss as keenly as the relief.

“Kriff,” Poe swore, and he looked worried. _Afraid_. “Sorry, buddy, did I hurt you?”

He looked so distraught at the thought that he might have caused Finn an injury that Finn hurried to reassure him, shaking his head. “No. No, you didn’t. I'm fine. I…”

The concern faded from Poe’s eyes, but the confusion remained. He reached out a hand toward Finn, maybe only to check for himself, maybe just to help him up, but Finn flinched away from his touch. “Don’t.”

“Oh.”

Poe didn’t understand, not really. He didn’t know it was _wrong_ to fraternize, to allow feelings to take precedence over training, over the mission, over your _duty_. But Finn knew, knew that it would inevitably lead to trouble.

 _Worse_.

It was a risk he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , take. Not when it put Poe in danger, too.

But neither would he forget the look of utter dejection on Poe’s face as he left him standing there, alone.

* * * *

The logical part of Finn’s brain knew it was stupid to fear reconditioning. The Resistance didn’t do that, wouldn’t send him for evaluation for having _feelings_.

What he found harder to shake was the ingrained training. The years of instruction that had taught him love made you weak. It made you slow, stupid, distracted you from what was important. A mind clouded by love would never function at its fullest capacity.

And he needed to be focused.

He thought, maybe, he could forget about it, that if he kept away from Poe for a while he’d accept it had all just been a reaction to everything that had happened. He would find the courage to salvage the friendship he valued so highly even if they could never have anything more.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was just how bereft Poe would look when he accepted Finn’s clumsy explanation.

Thankfully, their friendship remained undented, for which Finn would be eternally grateful. Poe, wonderful creature that he was, shook off his disappointment, and honorably respected Finn’s decision. He still teased Finn, introduced him to every questionable past time he knew (of which there were many), and continued to aid him in his recovery.

Which all, somehow, made him even more irresistible.

 _Kriff_.

Finn was still embroiled in his internal conflict when Poe was called away on a mission. They’d received intelligence that the First Order was mounting an attack on a planet populated by peaceable, farming communities. They had no real means to defend themselves, and stood little chance against the forces descending upon them without the help the Resistance could provide.

The General asked Finn for his assistance, and he stuck close to her side, providing all the insight he could on weapons, numbers, and what to expect.

Unfortunately, he could picture it all too well, could almost feel the weight of the blaster in his hands as innocent people tried to flee, desperate to protect themselves and their families.

It quickly became clear that the Order was only interested in the planet for its strategic position, that they had no qualms about killing anybody they believed stood in their way.

Which they did with indiscriminate abandon.

Finn heard every report as it came in, saw the rising count of casualties grow steadily higher. When news reached them of the destruction of a school, his stomach twisted in disgust.

That’s when he realized he was wrong. Wrong to have ever given credence to the First Order’s skewed version of what was right. Wrong to have let them continue to dictate his life and choices even after he had escaped their clutches.

When the Resistance finally, _finally_ , got the upper hand, Finn felt the same sense of relief as everyone else on the base, but he didn’t fully relax until he heard the one voice he’d been waiting for, the one he _needed_ to hear.

Black Leader, announcing the enemy’s retreat.

Even better was the message that came through a short while later. _“We're coming home.”_

* * * *

Finn was waiting by the hangars when the X-wings returned to base. Poe had barely climbed out of the cockpit before Finn was racing toward him, almost bowling him over in his haste.

“Poe!”

Poe turned, his hair a mess from his helmet, a huge smile lighting up his beautiful face. “Hey, buddy. What’s the—?”

Finn grabbed him, cutting off his question with a kiss. It was in no way a refined kiss, just a slightly uncoordinated press of lips and too many teeth, but Poe, recovering from his momentary surprise, kissed him back, and it felt so _good_.

“Whoa, Finn.” Poe gasped breathlessly against his mouth. “Slow down, buddy. What’s this? I thought…”

“Poe, I’m an idiot. If they were wrong about everything else, why would they be right about this? This isn’t wrong. Kissing you is _right_. Isn’t it? I mean, it _feels_ right.” He paused, looking into Poe’s eyes in the desperate hope he understood. “Right?”

Poe chuckled, slightly bemused but with a tentative hope sparking to life. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you want to kiss me again, then yeah. That’s _absolutely_ alright.”

Somewhere below them, BB-8 trilled his approval, but Finn already knew. And as he kissed Poe for the second time, he vowed never to doubt it ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Spandau's Ballet's 'Through The Barricades'.


End file.
